Please join Democrats Abroad Toulouse on Saturday, June 19th to celebrate the 100th anniversary of Bessie Coleman becoming a pilot in France. She was the first woman of color to earn her pilot's license, truly a milestone in history! 

The event will be moderated by Beatrice Monthioux, DA Toulouse Member-at-Large

Speakers will include: 

• Christine Debouzy - President of the French Association of Women Pilots
• Coline Béry - Specialist on Adrienne Bolland, aviatrix who did the same type of training before Coleman
• Olivier Sarrazain - Director of the documentary film "Bessie Coleman Première Aviatrice Noire"
• Françoise Sockeel - Of the Aeroclub of Abbeyville in the region where Coleman trained

The event will take place via Zoom. Please RSVP to receive a link for joining the event. 

Co-sponsored by the Global Black Caucus and Global Women's Caucus

The Global Black Caucus' Juneteenth event will follow at 6:00pm CET via another link. Stay tuned for details. 

Get out your red white and blue and come celebrate America’s Independence Day with DADK in Copenhagen’s Langelinie Park on Sunday, July 4 from 12:00 pm - 3:00 pm. Bring your own favorite picnic lunch and game and join other Americans and friends for a fun day for the whole family!

The DA Denmark Book Club will meet in person at Books and Company (Sofievej 1, 2900 Hellerup) and online on Tuesday, June 15 at 6:30 pm to discuss this month’s book, There There by Tommy Orange. There There follows twelve characters from Native communities: all traveling to the Big Oakland Powwow, all connected to one another in ways they may not yet realize.

You can order your copy of There There from Books and Company (Sofievej 1, 2900 Hellerup). Delivery typically takes 2-3 days. Pick up at the store.

The World we live in doesn't view us as we are.
It sees us through the scope of the biases that plague it
We are judged through a filter changing from person to person
We are not truly seen
Merely perceived
Presumed to be- and therefore, to the World we become

The World we live in doesn't view us as we are.
It sees us as is necessary for the continuations of the narrative bought into by the most people with the best weapons and the loudest voices.
The World decides how we define success, failure, truth, faith, our identity by putting us in categories to make us easier to manage.
He, She, They, Them, Non-binary, Straight, Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer, Intersex, Monogamous, Polyamorous, Pan-sexual, Asexual, Man, Woman, Black, White, Brown
Defined as therefore limited to

The World we live in doesn't view us as we are.
The World doesn’t view us.

People do

The World is an intangible set of ideas that we, People, have chosen to define ourselves and others by
We created these constructs so we can redefine them- if we want
And we must choose to
We must decide that the frames, boxes, cages- we have infused with ourselves to form our identities are indeed malleable.
We must want to accept more than our own ideals if we wish to share this world.
Because it does not only belong to one narrative- IT IS MADE OF MANY

The world we live in has People who don’t view us as we are.
But we can learn to see each other.
If we so choose.
And I hope we do.

Because I want the world I live in, to see me as I am.

Alexandra Smith

Paul's daughter Irene Melina Hickman reads his poem:

The history of a country can be known by its music.
You think you know how it feels to watch without
The ability to stop it.

As the structures collapse. As the fire maneuvers its
Way through the halls-windows and beams. Weakened
By the fire, the structures fall into ashes.

The laboring pain of the creators gone up in smoke
Caused by the vile deed of a false report.

That was 100 years ago

There they stood gazing into the empty streets with
The piles of burnt wood-melting steel and smoldering
Papers- pictures family heirlooms gone into the
Ashes of the wood from whence they came.

The Silence for 100 years

As they trod on the footsteps left by those whose hands
-Blood-sweat and tears labored to build a street
Envied by many.

They- the emancipated heirs of the former enslaved builders
Stand on their paths. Now the aftermath - just remnants
Of ashes and dust as far as their eyes could see.

The Silence for 100 years

And they have stood stoically patience waiting for
That which will not -rightfully come.

And that was 100 years ago- to this day!

Copyright © 2021 Paul S Hickman All Rights Reserved

Oh mother, mother, my dearest mother. As
I sit here. Remembering, your wisdom
And words of compassion. I surely do miss.
The consolation, of your gentle words. I
Surely do miss. The guiding wisdom of
Your yesteryear. I surely do miss.
The righteous, scolding from the depths of
Your knowledge. I surely do miss. The
Misunderstandings, because of my youth and
Lack of wisdom. I do acknowledge.
The failure, to hear your words, and my
Vile deeds. I do acknowledge. The failure
To fully exploit my talents and gifts. I
Do acknowledge.
And, oh mother, mother, my dearest mother.
The days and nights, will never go by, with –
Out thinking of you. Nor shall the years pass,
Without a loving thought of you.
And when I die, the last words I shall utter will
Be, I love you – my dearest mother.

Copyright © 1995 Paul S Hickman All Rights Reserved

She was an obedient child
Born of hard-working parents
Strictly raised morals ingrained
She was given a new assignment
From her third-grade teacher
To draw a picture family tree
Of her extended family
She poured through the crayon box
Looking for the right colors
Grandma’s cedar neck
Uncle James from Louisiana
His toothless pecan grin
Aunt Mabel from Kentucky
Her face like a shiny penny
Great Uncle Joe from Maryland
Gnarled like an old hickory tree
Her Georgia and South Carolina roots
Mama’s long peanut fingers
The burnt umber in her father’s skin
Her sister’s bushy chestnut hair
Her brother's smokey topaz eyes
She checked once again
But to no avail
Her school crayola box
With the built-in eraser
Had only one brown.

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
May 04, 2021

2021 Global Annual Meeting

Democrats Abroad Global Meetings are only possible thanks to participant donations. Our meetings are not sponsored by donations from corporations, PACs, other organizations within the Democratic party, etc. Suggested Donation for participating in our 2021 virtual global meeting is only $46 USD.

Got extra cash from your travel savings by attending this year's meeting "virtually"? – Use some of those savings to add to your donation and Click on the box with the amount you wish to donate or enter a different amount under "Other $" –  and hit that donate button.

Thank YOU for your generous support!!!

Donations are made to Democrats Abroad (Democratic Party Committee Abroad) and not to any candidate for Federal Office.

Donations to Democrats Abroad are not tax-deductible.

They told him he was disrespectful.
That he had nothing to complain about.
His protest made people uncomfortable.
They targeted him, they blackballed him, they tried to diminish him.
Because he was kneeling for us.

They said he was innocent.
“If that man hadn’t resisted arrest, that man would still be alive.”
They said he was just defending himself.
They made excuses for him, they defend him, they respect him.
Because he was kneeling on us.

They told him; he was didn’t deserve his job.
They demanded he put his money where his mouth is.
They took his career for being obstinate.
Yet he kept kneeling, in silent, lawful protest.
Because he was kneeling for us.

The defense put the dead, on trial.
They claimed the victim’s death was his own doing.
Apparently, the officer had no other choice.
They said it was the victim’s fault.
Because he was kneeling on us

Several years ago, he tried to explain.
People laid down in streets, malls, and stores.
They silently, peaceful asked for equality.
Nothing more- just the desire to be treated the same.
Because they were kneeling for us

Yet the brutality continued.
The death toll kept rising.
Black men, women, and children kept dying.
There was no justice, so there could be no peace.
Because they were kneeling on us.

We’ve been less than cattle, 3/5 a person, and one drop too much.
We’ve given our sons and daughters to causes that don’t represent us.
We’ve watched our youth go from school to prison in the blink of an eye.
We, the people…We are people… We always have been.
But they were kneeling on us.

As long as prisons are for profit,
As long as black men are seen as threats,
As long as the laws protect some and not all,
This cycle will continue- it was designed that way.
Because it was made to kneel on us

I wish I could say that we now stand at a crossroads.
I wish I had more faith in this country's desire to deliver on its promises.
I wish I believed that justice was truly served.
But I’ve read this story before- I’ve witnessed this section before- I know this position well,
Because they are still kneeling on us.

Men, women, and children have sacrificed.
We have protested “the correct way.”
We have recorded violence and mourned the loss of our young.
We have petitioned, boycotted, and screamed-
Because we were kneeling for peace.

As a nation we must do better.
As country we need to choose to respect and honor each other’s experiences.
We have the power to create the future Dr. King saw.
The first step is for them to take their knees off us.
Because we are kneeling to stand.

Alexandra Smith

I remember you, when we went swimming in dad's pond.
I was not mud crawling!

I remember you, when you drove the wagon wheel over,
Jo's arm after she fell out of it.

I remember you when you threw my red fire truck out,
Of our burning house.

I remember you, when someone let the 1936 Plymouth roll down,
The hill into the frozen pond -two mules pulled it out.

I remember you and Rudy playing one on one basketball.
I remember you always beat him, and how you two,
Put that small tennis ball through the hoop,
Of an empty tin can-nothing , but net!

I remember you and the Monarch bicycle you bought,
After Rudy had bought a Schwinn bike.

I remember you calling out got a “carp” as you came from,
Fishing at the lake crawling with venomous snakes.

I remember you and the bricks you threw at the venomous snake,
That had climbed up the tree next to the house.
When you got home from school -he almost bit me as,
I was playing self catch in the Yard.

I remember you and the blue and white 1955 Ford,
With its broken drive shaft that you repaired.

I remember you and your beautiful bride named Sadie,
Whom you brought to Muskogee to meet us.

I remember you and your beautiful daughter Brenda,
Whom you sent us a picture of her at birth.

I remember you and how proud you were of Tim,
Joann's husband And how smart you said he was -
Truly he is. But, Joann is smarter and better looking.

I remember you and your IBM computer that sparkled my,
Children' interest in computers -that I have been,
Paying for every since.

I remember seeing you at the Mayo Clinic, and you,
Gave me the grand tour of the facility in your wheel,
Chair-thinking nothing phases this guy!

I remember you, I remember you my brother, I remember,
You are my mentor and hero! You did so much in spite of it all.
I never heard one word of “self-pity”!

Enjoy Heaven! My brother -you have earned it!

Copyright (c) 2007, Paul S Hickman, All Rights Reserved

Adjusted to seclusion
As the roar of tragedy
Struck our cities in rage
A deluge of gloom
Descended upon our hopes
Slowly embodied our grief
Into whimpers at dusk
Clandestine closets shattered
Complexities multiplied
Crowds watched in horror
As armed illiterates
drummed up rancor
mocked our foundation
with dirty complot flags
vilified our sanctuary
smote down our honor
hung dung on our trust
relentless knee on a neck
a massacre in parlors
gates opened to egotists
the bible held by a demon
we drew our slingshots
congregated in protest
cast our voices in hope
while a pandemic slew
molesting unmarked caskets
we scrutinized babies
lying naked in grime
cages of demolition
waiting for auction
hearts in calamity
marching tin soldiers
charging ruptured borders
lilies of the fields
crying for sustenance
while polluted rivers
sprout from fracking fields
requiring a funeral anthem
for a disoriented continent
Meantime the eagle sways
to a divergent cadence

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
April 07, 2021

--Irene
Finally, off on the long journey to a familiar land.
Fearful, yet unafraid of the long wait to see her.
As I remember, surely not the same as I left, but will
Still caress the spirit with renewed freshness.
To see souls wondering, lost in a morass of ideas.
Seeking, a solution for the pain, that follows.
The poor judgments, grasping for answers from other
Lands. While looking far way, will not provide
The answer, nor the good life again.
Life passes, without clear thoughts or dreams
To shed light for ideas, as we trod into a
New epoch. As the cosmos rushes to
Escape that which is not to be escaped
And the windows slowly close....

Copyright (c) 2012 Paul S Hickman, All Right Reserved

A dream last night
40 Vietnam warriors
Sitting stoned
Around a fire
In Central Park
With the bombs
Still exploding
Inside their bowels
While seagulls jeered
Along the dead seacoast
A blackbird named Jonathan
Rose with a catfish
In its hungry mouth
I had a dream last night
A little black boy
Singing inside a burnt-out Chevrolet
Where have all the flowers gone
While the bar next door
Blasted the mantra
Let it Be

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
April 03, 2021

The police chief said the shooter was having a bad day
A bad day?

That day a man, with rage in his heart and lust in his loins
Lashed out.
Unable to control himself, unable to restrain his desires
He let them loose-
He murdered you.
A bad day?

That man lives, breaths, eats, survives
While you live on in memories and stories.
He eliminated people because of his own failings, his lackings
Yet the police chief said the shooter was having a bad day
A bad day?

That man decided that his desires were stronger,
More important than your Right to
live,
breathe,
grow,
thrive,
to exist
A bad day?

He tried to erase that longing, erase you
But he won’t succeed
You will not fade into the past because we will remember you.
You were mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, friends
You were loved. You are loved.
You deserved more
You deserved longer
You deserved better
A bad day?

We will remember you for who you were,
Your loved ones will carry you in their hearts
You will live on as a piece of all of us.
We will keep you alive
Because you ARE so much more than some man’s
Bad day.

Alexandra Smith

We give daily
Our bodies nourish
Like the Earth
We give life
We strive to sustain
Our successes are few
The crowds don’t cheer
Our heroines leave
Often go unnoticed
Still we strive hard
With quiet laughter
Our hearts on brim
Love fills our chores
As we join together
One month a year
To give us credit
Our own praises
In the month of March
Just because it is spring
Once again we dance
As we are allowed to

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
March 19, 2021

We used to listen to a song
From the Isley Brothers
Singing about soldiers
The four dead in Ohio
Now another tune is playing
Eight killed in Atlanta
Attacked, harassed, scapegoated
Murdered for being Asian
Blamed for a virus
Women shot in March
Sacrificed for Women's Month
Can’t you hear the drummers
Sounding like machine guns
Hear the mothers sighing
The little children crying
The world watches and moans

[email protected] All rights reserved
Camille Elaine Thomas
March 18, 2021

Away from the dark cold blood of hate,
away from the evil eyes of racism,
away from the horrific path of xenophobia,
rests the promise land of our pledges,
where the roots of fraternity, sown with the clipped wings of the missing souls,
will grow into the hearts of hope,
to engrave in our building stones the calling beats of love.

Carlos Colao

You have been our gracious Japanese landlords.
Our Vietnam war zone protectors, friends and co-workers.
My Korean IT professional associate.
My Korean graphic illustrator for my poems.
You have been my former interned Japanese associate.

And we have trod with a host of acquaintances from Asian
Nations of Japan, Korea, Philippines, Vietnam, China, India,
Thailand, Cambodia, Indonesia, Malaysia, Singapore, and Hong Kong.

All of which have been with the greatest respect towards us
And our family and our friends.

To have a vile deed doer martyr some of our Soulmates is
Sad and the work of the evil one who chose a weaker brainwashed
One to do his deed.

May their Memories be Eternal

© 2021-Paul S Hickman-All Rights Reserved

As the rays of the sun, eclipsed the night.
The journeys to a distant place starts.

And we came, some by car, some by plane,
Some by train, and some thought to walk.

Drifting in from the North, the South, the
East and the West. We are not strangers
Among strangers.

Gathering to share the wisdom, experiences
And the knowledge of thousands of years.

Guided by teachers of the ages, dedicated
To prepare and enlightening us for these
Times.

Oh, wise ones of the past. We struggle to
Meet your yesteryear's challenges. As they
Fade from our minds, and we fight to recover
Them. But are still misty, dim, and physically
Untouchable.

Our hearts, feeling faint as you slip away.
Regretfully, even the scolding and your words
Of wisdom are much needed - now.

But your spirits, still guides us through the
Unknown wilderness. Even though everything is
Changed, and not the way you left it or taught
Us.

Your voices will continue to guide and console
Us. As we stretch to reach the epitome of our
Essence.

With your desires in our minds and souls. We
Come closer to each other. And even though you
Are not here, we can feel your presence. As we
Depart once more to the cosmos.

As the time passes ... and you our ancestors cry
In the distance -with open arms.

Copyright (C) 1994 Paul S Hickman All Rights Reserved

Please welcome Carlos Colao to the GBC Poet Laureate Circle!
Carlos is an active poet that writes in both Spanish and English.
We are looking forward to Carlos' participation in the Poet Laureate Circle.
You can read/hear the poem, "Nuestro Día", by Carlos Colao here.

Carlos Colao from Spain - Read Carlos' Bio

The other diligent members of our Poet Laureate Circle are:

Jasmine Cochran from China - Read Jasmine's Bio

Elaine Thomas from Germany - Read Elaine's Bio

Nadine Pinede from Belgium - Read Nadine's Bio

Paul Hickman from Greece - Read Paul's Bio

Alexandra Smith from China - Read Alexandra's Bio

You can register to vote and request a ballot at https://www.votefromabroad.org/. The sooner you do it, the better.